


Worst in Me

by shipstiel



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Episode: s02e08 The Blade of Marmora, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 18:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10702914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipstiel/pseuds/shipstiel
Summary: “I want you to come back to us. Give up the knife, don’t get yourself killed here. If it’s not for you, then do it for me.”Lance’s expression is pleading, searching Keith’s face. “You know, I don’t hate you. I never did. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. You see, what I want, Keith, is you.”—Keith's going through hell in the Trials of Marmora and all he can see is Lance. Somehow this is worse than the fighting.





	Worst in Me

**Author's Note:**

> So I found this fic sitting in my drafts the other day, almost completely finished, and realized that I had written this months ago then promptly forgotten about it again. It was a lot more popular of an idea back then lmao 
> 
> So, whoops. 
> 
> I thought it was a shame to leave it unposted when I had put the effort into writing it in the first place, so here it is.
> 
> Art by [maraluzy](https://maraluzy.tumblr.com/)! 

“Guess I really _wasn’t_ supposed to go through that door.”

Keith can’t enjoy the satisfaction of having made his escape from the fighting, not when his shoulder burns like this and he feels like his entire body is injured in some way or another.

Before he knows what’s really going on he collapses on the floor, laying there for a few moments, feeling like he just really needs some rest right now.

He only opens his eyes when he can sense a shadow pass in front of him through closed lids. He opens his eyes slowly, just to a slit at first, then more when he realizes that it’s a corporeal shape in front of him. It takes him a second, but he slowly recognizes the figure before him as it stops, still standing.

“Lance…” Keith thinks he must be hallucinating, a pain driven fantasy brought up by desperation. He closes his eyes, thinking that when he opens them again Lance will be gone. He’s in the castle of lions right now, not on the base with Keith and Shiro. It’s only a fantasy.

-

Shiro looks over at Kolivan, his expression twisted in confusion.

“Is that a hologram?”

“His suit has the ability to create a virtual mindscape, reflecting its wearer’s greatest hopes and fears. And at this moment, it appears your friend desperately wants _him_.”

Shiro looks back to the screen as a realization begins to dawn.

-

 “Keith, buddy, you alright? You look like you took quite a beating there.”

Keith forces his eyes open again when he hears Lance’s voice, uncharacteristically gentle. Lance crouches in front of him and Keith runs his gaze over the blue of the paladin’s armour and the blue of his eyes greedily, taking in every detail.

Lance doesn’t have his helmet on and Keith can see that he’s smiling, and Lance holds out his hand. “Need some help up?”

Keith takes his hand, still in confusion, and he lets out a shuddering breath when he feels the warmth of Lance’s bare palm in his, even through Keith’s gloves. This must be real then. Lance is really here.

"How are you here?” Keith clutches at his shoulder once he’s standing upright and has let go of Lance’s hand.

“Pidge managed to find a way to get us through before the original time calculated. I got sent down here to get you. Apparently you had to go through some crazy trials? The guys up there seem pretty impressed. Not that it’s not anything I couldn’t have done.” Lance shoots him a smirk.

Keith asks the question that nags at him the most. “Why you? Why’d you come to get me and not the others?"

“I ended up getting volunteered into it by Shiro. Besides, this base is like, super cool and I wanted the chance to explore a little bit more.” Keith feels a vague sinking feeling in his stomach. Of course it wasn’t for _him_ , because of _Keith_. Keith doesn’t know why he had even thought that.

“Come on, we’ve gotta get going now though.”

“Going? You want me to leave?"

“Yeah. You don’t need to keep this up anymore, you know. What’re you trying to prove? You did your thing, now we’ve gotta get going.”

“Lance, I can’t leave.”

Lance narrows his eyes. “What do you mean you can’t leave.”

“I’m not done yet. I still need to find out who I am, I haven’t finished the trials yet. I still need to awaken the blade.” The thought of doing more of those trials seems like the most daunting obstacle Keith’s had to face yet at this point, but it’s the more favourable option between this and giving up, never knowing.

 _Knowledge or death_.

Keith _has_ to know.

“Come on Keith, just give them the knife then we can leave.” Lance’s expression has turned a full one eighty since when he first arrived. He looks irritated now, not concerned and caring like before.

“I can’t.”

“Just give them the knife, Keith.” Lance’s words are short and punctuated, and he looks at Keith like he can’t understand what’s going on with him. “It’s just a stupid knife, come on. You’re already all beat up, just give it up!”

Keith hates the fighting, between him and Lance. Sure, he pushed this rivalry at first, because Lance was a moron and he was argumentative and Keith didn’t want to admit to himself that he still liked him anyways, but now it just makes him feel slightly sick every time the arguing begins.  

Sometimes he wonders what it would be like if Lance and him could get along, at least most of the time.

Keith gets glimpses of it sometimes, of how well him and Lance can work together, how their skills complement each other’s. They could be good together, they could—

“Lance, I’m sorry. But this is something that I need to do and you just have to understand that.”

Lance’s mouth twists into a sharp line and he tilts his head. “You know, I thought you were over this. I thought you were shaping up to be a good teammate but _no_. You’re just as selfish as you’ve always been. You just wanna be badass Keith, and you don’t care about the rest of us!”

Keith feels Lance’s words like a new wound. It burns in his ribcage, somewhere between his heart and his lungs.

“I do care about the rest of you. I just, I have to do this. It’s my only connection to my past, the only chance I have to figure out who I really am, where I come from. I have to know, you don’t understand—“

“What do you have to do Keith, go and get yourself killed? Who’s gonna pilot the red lion then then, huh? How are we gonna form Voltron? You’re just gonna let Zarkon come find us and kill us? All over some stupid _knife_? Just give it over to them and end all this!” Lance’s tone is biting and he spits out the words like they burn in his mouth. Keith is all too accustomed to rage like that. And he’s so, so tired of it.

“I— I’m sure you would be able to find a new pilot for red. There’s a whole universe of candidates out there, I thought you would be the first to say that. Besides, if I die you’ll be rid of me. That’s what you want anyways, isn’t it?”

“There you go again, assuming you know what’s best for everyone. You have no idea what I want.” Lance takes a step forward and Keith’s breath catches in his throat, because Lance still has that effect on him.

Despite the jabs, the teasing, the hostility, the long nights that Keith spent telling himself _over and over_ that he wouldn’t think of Lance that way again, Lance _still_ has that effect.

The dreams, the longing, the constant aching feeling in his chest that he knew, that he knows will _never_ be filled—

This is worse than the fighting with the bots had been. At least then he had had a clear enemy.

Keith has accepted by now that Lance can never _truly_ be his enemy.

Wouldn’t that make it so much easier though? If he was?

Keith looks down at the knife in his hands, as he has so many times before alone in his room at night and he sighs, because despite all of this, despite _Lance_ being here, nothing has changed. The way he feels about this is still the same as it’s always been. He looks up at Lance.

“And what _do_ you want, Lance?”

Lance takes another step forward and now they’re hardly standing more than a foot apart. His eyes run down Keith slowly and Keith lets out the slightest shudder. Lance’s gaze feels like something physical, Keith could trace it blindfolded.

“I want you to come back to us. Give up the knife, don’t get yourself killed here. If it’s not for you, then do it for me.” Lance’s expression is pleading, searching Keith’s face. “You know, I don’t hate you. I never did. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. You see, what I _want,_ Keith, is you.”

Keith feels what little breath he has left stolen. This base could start collapsing under the gravitational force of a black hole right now and he wouldn’t notice.

Why now. Why would Lance tell him this now, when it does nothing but hurt him.

“ _Lance_ —“

Keith’s voice comes out in something barely louder than a whisper, cut off when Lance leans in, the corners of his mouth switching upwards. The blue of Lance’s eyes is an ocean and Keith is lost at sea.

Lance reaches up, caresses the side of Keith’s face with his fingertips and Keith can do nothing but watch numbly. He closes his eyes, letting out a shuddering breath, and the contact burns like a wildfire. He leans his face into Lance’s hand, needing _more, always more._

Lance’s voice is a low murmur, as he asks again, “give up the knife, Keith. Come with me. Come back to us, your _family_.”

Keith must be destined for unhappiness. Maybe it’s something that’s wrong with him, maybe it’s his own fault. Everything’s changed, and yet he still can’t let this go.  

When Keith speaks, it might be one of the hardest things he’s ever done.

He opens his eyes.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this. But I—you just have to understand. I’m sorry.”

Lance’s expression turns cold and he glances down at Keith’s mouth slowly, and Keith feels in some way that it’s revenge.

Lance drops his hand and steps backwards. “Go on and get yourself killed, Keith. See if I care.” Then he turns and starts to walk away.

Keith stares after him, feeling like there’s a vice over his lungs, his arms, his head, his heart, _everything_.

He watches as the familiar blue gets smaller and smaller, until he can’t take it anymore, and his resolve finally breaks.

“Lance!” Keith takes a step forward desperately. “Lance, come back! Wait, Lance, I—“

It’s too late. Lance disappears in a blinding display of light, and Keith stumbles after him a moment later.

The room is gone, and he’s in all too familiar of a house, and Lance’s name still burns in his mouth. Keith isn’t sure if he will ever be able to get it out.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr: [shipstiel-writes](https://shipstiel-writes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
